


A Little Tense in the Shoulders

by yourLastLove



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, F/M, Falling In Love, In Hidding, Kink, Polyjuice Potion, Voldemort Wins, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 08:26:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17804540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourLastLove/pseuds/yourLastLove
Summary: AU: With Voldemort reining terror on most of the world, the golden trio and co have been forced to flee to a place unknown to most witches, wizards, and muggles alike. Trying to make ends meet and stay hidden all at once, Hermione finds herself employed at a shady local business, and finds herself under the protection of polyjuiced Draco - a bodyguard hired by the same place, also trying to make his way in a very dark world. (Rating may change - characters are all adults)





	A Little Tense in the Shoulders

“WE’RE SO GLAD you could join us here, Miss - what was it?”

“Er, Violet.”

A woman with a pointed nose, bright red lips, and purple hair that seemed to contain its own glitter nodded her head, jotting the name down on a sticky note. “You’ll have to forgive me,” she started, “I’m just terrible with names.” She gave a playful roll of her eyes and swiveled in her chair to stand. “When would you like to start, Vivian?”

A cough. “It’s Violet, actually, and I can start today if you have room.”

The woman laughed. “Enthusiasm will get you far in this industry, my dear. These are trying times, I’m sure you’ll make our clients very happy,” her sly voice was punctuated with a wink.

The woman in front of her, still in her chair, gulped. “I’ll definitely put my best effort into it, Miss LaRoux.”

”Oh no,” the purple haired woman tutted. “Call me Anastasia.” She lifted her hand to give a dainty shake to the other’s. “Well then, Viola, let me show you around.”

The girl nodded, standing and following Anastasia LaRoux from the room. They closed a deep red door behind them, hiding the various moving portraits and paraphernalia from sight.

“So you’ve already seen our waiting room, of course. The washroom is just down there - we have a separate one for staff inside the change room which is just over there,” she pointed a long finger to the left, showing off a perfectly shaped, blood red nail that seemed to glitter orange whenever she spoke. “We have a multitude of rooms to use, and you’ll be meeting with clients in a room based on what they’ve come for. I’ll give you a document to look over when we’re done with the tour, and you can highlight what sort of clients you’ll be taking.”

The rest of the meeting went by in a haze, leaving the new hire feeling a buzz of nerves. She was out the door and in the tunnels, ducking into the shadows just as her perfect black bob was growing into a mess of brown curls, and her perfect pearly white teeth enlargened in the front. The polyjuice wore off just as she was able to get out of sight of the many passersby.

A round steel door that stuck out awkwardly from the wall in its frame was a blessing and Hermione took a much needed breath as she muttered a password and yanked the door open. It clanged shut behind her when she passed through it, and the sound rang in her ears. She was greeted by the cheerful sound of her name.

“I got the job,” she blurted out, allowing herself to be swallowed up into a tight hug and a swoosh of long red hair.

”When do you start?”

”Tomorrow. If I get clients. The owner thinks I will. She’s posted by photo in the staff bios folder so I just have to be selected by someone who walks in.”

Ginny nodded, still holding onto her friend. “What happens when you run out of hairs?”

Hermione shrugged out of the hug, walking down their chilly hallway that heating charms never seemed to warm. She sat on their red couch - reminiscent of Gryffindor common room - tried to keep her voice friendly. “We get more.”

A HEAVY KNOCK sounded thrice on the big, round, steel door. A man with a bald head, angry beard, and crooked, scar-covered nose waited for his call to be answered. There were rats scuttling somewhere around him, and although he couldn’t see them, he could hear their squeaks. The man didn’t dislike rats persay, he just disliked places where rats such as these would be found, and lately, he seemed to be surrounded by them. The tunnel was dimly lit by one lonely torch on a wall. He didn’t dare pull out his wand though, despite how much he wanted to cast a quick lumos. It was better when people didn’t know he was a wizard.

The door creaked open after quite a bit of time, and a pretty girl with a black trench coat and tall black heels appeared.

”Good morning, Victoria. The grass smells like daisies today,” he told her. The code he’d been given so she’d know he was safe.

She let out a breath, recognizing the words. He didn’t blame her. Strangers could be scary in these parts.

”Good morning. My name is Violet, actually. And yours?”

He smiled casually, putting out his arm for her to take, just as he’d been instructed. “You can call me Paul.”

She nodded, taking the offered arm and allowing him to guide her through the tunnel. “So… you’re my chauffeur of sorts?”

”More like a body guard. I stand outside the room while you’re with clients, I bring you to and from work, and I can take clients away from you and put them on a restricted list.”

”Restricted list?”

”Meaning they’re on a short leash if they don’t want to be banned from the place.”

Her stomach hurt. This was a mistake. Not that she’d found another option.

They arrived at Madame LaRoux’ Center For Relaxation after a silent, slightly damp walk. The first clients wouldn’t be arriving for another half hour, giving Hermione time to prepare for whatever client would come first.

”Victoria, darling,” Anastasia greeted her when she arrived, holding out her arms and kissing the girl on both cheeks as she arrived between them. “Are you excited for you first client? They’ll be here any time now.” Her eyes glittered with excitement.

Without bothering to correct the woman (again), Hermione, looking like Violet, said, “I’m sure the nerves will go away once I’m in the room.” She hoped she sounded confident. She didn’t feel confident. Rather, she felt nauseated.

”Oh, of course they will. The first few sessions are always nerve wracking. You’ll do fine.“ She was brought over to the reception desk where she was introduced to Winifred. Winifred had six buns in her pink hair, eyeliner that was so long and exaggerated it shouldn’t have looked as good as it did, and sharp features that seemed somehow inhuman.

A chart was handead to her from across the desk. “That’s your briefing material for the day,” Winifred stated, leaning over the desk to point out the important information. “Here it shows the time you’ll have your client and for how long. They’re name and general profile points, what they’ve paid for, and what your cut is. You’ll see here that your first client is Mr. Brown. He’s been coming here regularly for a while now. You’re lucky, he tips pretty well usually.”

Tips. What a thought.

”Thanks, Winifred.” She bit her lip. “How do I know which room to go to?”

”You’ll get to know the rooms. Mr. Brown is here for a massage today, so you’ll be in the massage-spa room. It’s number 8, just down the hall there.” She nodded in the direction Violet should be going.

Paul began his walk towards room number 8 before Violet had the chance to realize she should even be walking. She caught up with him as he was passing room 4.

”So you’ll be outside?”

”Just out here,” he nodded, taking his post outside of the door she’d be going through as soon as she got her anxiety under control.  
”How will you know if I need you?“

”I’ll hear you.”

”What if he’s a wizard? He could silence the room.”

”I have my ways. I’ll know if you need me.”

She shouldn’t have asked. She didn’t feel better at all.

The room was nice though. It held the pleasant, calming scent of patchouli, and the light was dim but still bright enough that she could see everything clearly. She found a CD player in the corner, muggle style, though she wondered if it were charmed.

”Violet?” She heard from the doorway. She turned around.

”You must be Mr. Brown.”


End file.
